


Double Dog Dare

by Nightmare



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 1000 Island Challenge, After Age of Ultron, Classy and Sensual, Closure, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-02 02:01:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4041436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightmare/pseuds/Nightmare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot has changed in 70 years. How is Captain America going to deal with a post-Sexual Revolution America?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Dog Dare

**Double Dog Dare.**

"I _dare_ you to watch a pornographic movie, Steve!" Natasha Romanov said. "Bucky's in."

"Don't call me Bucky, I'm _James_ ," the Winter Soldier growled, an angry eye visible through the dark strands of his hair.

Steve turned to his childhood buddy with a look of betrayal, "You agreed to this filth, Barnes?"

"Don't call..." Barnes began in the same dark tone, then his voice softened a bit as he shook his hair back from his face. "I guess 'Barnes' is okay. And yeah, it can't be any worse than the wartime burlesque shows."

Clint banged his head softly on the wall, a disbelieving grin on his face, while a sound like intermittently escaping steam was the only remaining trace of the brays of laughter he was suppressing.

Bruce facepalmed, his big sigh only just audible over the hisses.

"Isn't this in rather poor taste?" Thor said. He looked over to where Stark was standing with his back to his friends, looking out the plate glass windows that provided the Avengers a striking nighttime view of the city. "Stark?"

Tony turned around slowly, a malicious smirk creeping over his face. "Oh, Nat... tell me I get to pick it...?"

"Not a chance, Tony," Natasha said. "Anything _you'd_ consider to be over the top would be so far out of their frame of reference it might as well be from another planet. No, I picked one from Clint's house."

The hissing stopped abruptly. Clint craned his head at her, hair still pressed up against the wall. "Which one?"

"Laura's favorite," she said. The archer convulsed into snickers, clutching his ribs and only just able to keep from falling on his ass.

"Alright," Steve said sternly, "Fun is fun, but give me one good reason I should agree to... this."

"Morés have changed a lot, Cap," Natasha said. "After the sexual revolution things are different. The last time we were on a street patrol you were flinching at the girls coming out of nightclubs. Look at it as an exercise in desensitivity. We wouldn't want you to faint dead away when facing the more... risqué street walkers, right?"

Steve Rogers pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fine," he said between clenched teeth. "Let's get it over with."

Bruce gave Clint a curious look. "What's the name?" Clint whispered in his ear, and Bruce gave a thoughtful nod. "I've seen that one. It's kinda like the 'Hogan's Heroes' of the Penthouse Forums."

"Sounds boring," Tony said. "I think I'll go find Pepper." The playboy picked up his mobile, and entered the elevator.

"You do that, Tony," Natasha said. "So, as part of the dare, the first one to stop watching will get a 'remedial' session of my chosing. Understood?" James Barnes and Steve nodded.

"Fair Natasha," Thor said. "I have an interest in Human erotica. May I also attend?"

"The more the merrier, big guy," she said with a shrug. " _But!_ Only those who _haven't_ seen it." She shook her finger at Clint and Bruce. "There'll be no peanut gallery."

"Awww!" Clint whined. Bruce raised his hands in agreement and settled on a couch, busily working with a smartphone.

.....

And so, the First Avenger found himself in a dimly lit briefing room, with three comfortable chairs arrayed widely in front of a large flat screen. The God of Thunder took the center chair, while the men out of time hesitated before picking a seat on either side of him. Steve was in the rightmost seat before he quite knew why he chose it; because he tended to put his left side towards danger, where his shield could protect him. But there was no protection here.

"Begin the entertainment!" Thor declared. The screen flashed a couple of times, and then sultry saxophones played with a breathless voice-over. " ** _Love Rocket_** _!_ _Another part of_ The Whore War II _series, the thrilling tale of Wormer VonBrowne, Aryan rocket scientist, as he carries out the ultimate master plan for the Third Reich."_

Steve couldn't quite stifle his groan of pain as the ridiculous movie began. What could loosely be called a 'plot' hinged around a blatantly phallic giant rocket project loaded with 'superior German seed', and that, along with the mysterious _'Pregna Ray'_ would make all exposed females only birth pure Aryan children for the rest of their lives, thus eliminating the lesser races in a single generation.

In between half-hearted attempts at addressing the tissue thin plot, the blond actor with the comically large penis took every opportunity to introduce said body part into the quote-unquote _'love box'_ of any woman to cross his path. When one of those women was a 'captured British Spy' with soft brown curls that 'VonBrowne' pulled on as he acted out a rape with her, Steve realized he was harshly grinding his teeth together.

The actress succumbed to the male lead's sexual efforts with a piercing ejaculatory scream and that was all he could stand. He stood abruptly, and left the room. He stalked through the common room to the elevator, glaring at Natasha, and growling, "I'll take your remedial session," to her as the automatic doors slid shut behind him.

Bruce entered the elapsed time into his betting pool app, muting Stark's cursing over the chat function. "I thought the brunette would get to him." Natasha nodded, her face expressionless. "That wasn't very nice Natasha," Banner said softly. She shrugged at him slightly.

Clint took a pull on his beer bottle. "I thought he'd get all embarrassed or something, but he was really _mad_. I hope you know what you're doing, Nat."

"So do I," she said.

.....

The note from Romanoff shoved under his door the next morning specified that Steve wasn't to spoil his appetite and he was to wear formal dress. Maria Hill arrived at his quarters not long after to deliver a box, and told him it was something they'd been getting together for some time.

Left alone with the box, he sat on his couch and opened it, gasping when he saw what was inside. With shaking hands, he drew out a historically accurate, finely tailored Army officer's uniform, circa 1945. Captain's bars adorned the shoulders, the dark brown chest festooned with the full versions of every medal and honor he'd earned in the War, including a few granted after his presumed death.

His head swam with a sudden feeling of delirium... Steve's eyes squeezed shut, and when they opened, he again saw the wartime dance hall from the vision induced by the Scarlett Witch. The hall buzzed with the hubbub of servicemen on leave having a good time with their girls. He stood in his dress uniform in the midst of the dancing, feeling lost and confused. Turning, looking, for something, or someone... he froze, seeing her: Agent Peggy Carter. Everyone else faded away as she approached him, dressed to the nines, her eyes locked onto his. Bemused, he smiled, reaching out to her. Just as he would have felt the warm touch of her hand, she, too, faded to mist, leaving him alone in the dim quiet hall...

Back to now in his rooms, he dropped the uniform jacket back into the box, and buried his face in his hands with a groan.

.....

He nearly didn't wear the uniform after that, but he'd never let the difficulty of a thing stop him from doing it. He made his way to the Hotel suite _incognito_ , wearing an over coat and a brimmed hat, to avoid the staring eyes his familiar face and the uniform would inevitably draw. He slid the keycard he carried to open the door, and slipped inside. The sitting room was empty, except for a lady's coat on the hat-rack. He put his coat and hat alongside it, and pulled a single red rose from the inner pocket. "Hello?" he said.

"On the balcony," was the answer, and he hesitated, because he knew that voice from somewhere. He followed his ears, and found a large balcony with a table set up for two. When he saw who was waiting for him a little smile formed on his lips, because it was his 'neighbor', the blond S.H.I.E.L.D. agent assigned to protect him at his apartment. Although he had to say, he'd never seen her in such beautiful gown.

"Kate?" he asked, as he handed her the rose. He didn't want to assume, but her cover name as the nurse was all he knew.

"Sharon, actually," she said. "Thank you, it's lovely." She put the blossom in a small vase, and gestured for him to sit.

He nodded his thanks, and sat opposite at a table of various appetizers. He dropped his eyes to the food and jumped in surprise. While he was well aware of the _kinds_ of foods on the table, sliced vegetables, breadsticks and the like, it was the _forms_ that took him aback. Put simply, anything and everything that could look obscene, did.

Sharon's eyes glinted in amusement at his shock, as she slowly dragged a penis shaped cracker through a dish of Thousand Island dressing. Bringing it to her mouth, she licked off the dip before popping the cracker in her mouth. He flushed, realizing he was staring. Looking for something not too objectionable, he picked up a deviled egg, and nearly had it in his mouth before he realized the decorative bit of pimento on the top made it look like a bared nipple. Muscle memory took over as he mechanically ate it while a small part him wanted to hyperventilate.

The agent dabbed at her mouth delicately, then turned to a portable bar. "Cocktail?" she asked, emphasizing the first syllable. He shook his head. "Say it," she insisted.

Letting out a breath, he answered her. "No, thank you, I don't want a cocktail. Is there any wine?"

She poured some into his glass. "Is it hard for you to say 'cock'?"

"Not if you're talking about backyard roosters, but as anatomy, it's rude," he said avoiding her eyes.

"What did you say, when it was just the guys?" a genuine look of curiosity was on her face.

His jaw worked a bit, before he muttered quietly, "Pecker." He was beginning to think the flush on his cheeks would become permanent. Maybe Natasha had a point. Guts, war, and aliens he could face; He should be able to face this too. "Who in the world makes stuff like this?" He gestured at the appetizers, before picking one at random and eating it.

"Romanoff said it's from a specialty shop that caters for bachelor parties and the like," she said. "I suggested that we just fondue it, but she said this made a clearer point."

Steve sputtered in the middle of a swallow of the rosé, looking up at her. How did she... how _could_ she know that phrase? As far as he knew, only two people knew that he'd jealously assumed 'fondue' was a sort of unfamiliar euphemism.

She looked at him levelly, then picked up a pocketbook, and pulled out a S.H.I.E.L.D. lanyard, handing it to him.

He swallowed hard, and read off the name, "Agent 13, Carter, Sharon..."

"Peggy is my aunt," she said. "I grew up with the certainty that there was nothing a man could do that a woman could not do just as well, because she was living proof." A fond smile curled her lips. "She was the best aunt ever, and the reason I had a black belt and medals in competitive shooting by the time I was 9 years old. And, though my parents weren't very happy about it, the reason I joined S.H.I.E.L.D."

His breath hitched, but he could find no words as she continued.

"She's the reason I agreed to this. She talked about you a lot, and how hard it was for her to get over you, and move on. She told me how important that was, though. She couldn't keep putting her life on hold because you weren't there; she had to live it." Sharon put her hand over his, and squeezed. "It wasn't very long ago for you that you made that dance date with Peggy, and I can guess how much it must have hurt to see her the way she is now." She stood up from the table, "She can't be here, but here's an Agent Carter ready to dance with you, at last. It's nice to see you're dressed for the occasion."

He swallowed again and rose to his feet, automatically checking to see if his uniform was still neatly smart. A single step brought him near her, and his slightly shaking hand took hers. It was soft, warm, and _real_ in his, and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. She pulled him to the great room, and turned up the soft slow jazz that had been playing since he arrived.

Steve smiled as she turned back to him, and took up the ready position; his right hand holding hers at shoulder height, his left hand lightly on her waist, and her right hand near his left shoulder. He began to lead, and _it was very nice_ , but he couldn't help but to chuckle. "You know who taught me to dance?" She shook her head, looking up at him.

"Bucky," he said. "He always believed in me, even if neither of us figured a sickly runt like me could ever land a girl. Just picture it... James Barnes leading little me through the dance steps in a ratty yellow kitchen, yelling at his family to stay out and stop laughing at us." Moisture beaded up at the corners of his eyes, and his voice developed a catch. "He was okay at lead, but when it was time for me to try he kept stepping on me..." He shook his head ruefully. "I'm still better at following."

An unheeded tear trickled down his cheek, and she pulled back to stop, smiling. "Okay," she reached down to take his hand from her waist, and taking the lead position. "That must be why you keep so much distance from your partner." She drew him flush against her, her lower hand around him at the small of his back, as he held her bare shoulder.

He stepped back smoothly as she stepped forward, very much aware of her warmth and softness brushing against him. _This was even better_. She led smoothly, and her proximity was affecting him more than he anticipated in his unsettled state. He tried to pull back slightly, but she'd have none of it, pulling him closer and leaning up to catch his mouth in a fiery, if mostly one-sided kiss.

"Awfully bold, aren't you Sharon?" he said when she released his mouth, their feet still moving in the dance.

She gave a big smile. "I'm done dancing as Peggy, Steve. This is all me." She rubbed up against him to prove it.

He took a breath, "What did she tell you...?"

Sharon shook her head. "The man she talked about was a legend, and a dear friend. The one I'm dancing with is a kind, adorable goof I've come to care about a lot as I lived next to him. A guy so painfully shy he never noticed when I hinted more than once that he'd be welcome to spend the night at my place."

He blinked. "Would that be allowed?"

She shrugged. "Probably not, but I didn't care. I like you, Steve. Not for who you were to her, but for who you are to me."

He lowered his eyes, leaning his cheek on her blond hair, and following her lead and the music. He was holding on to his composure by the ragged edges tonight. The still aching loss of all he knew, the tension and mortification of Natasha's dare, and the raw physical desire Sharon was evoking in him... They were right, he did need to move on, and he hadn't been.

He wouldn't consider doing this with a stranger, but then again, she wasn't a stranger. He'd known her as 'Kate, the nurse next door' for several months before the incident at his apartment. Perhaps, for once, it was time not to do what his head thought he should do, but what his heart wanted to do. He slowed, signaling a stop. Drawing back, he gave her a ghost of a smile. "This is me, noticing." Leaning down, he kissed her, tentatively, but no longer a passive recipient. The taste and the feel of her as he embraced her caused his goose bumps to rise, and he deepened the kiss, thrilling to her passionate response.

Finally, they drew back, Steve feeling his heart pound in his chest, seeing a fetching blush on Sharon's face. "I'd... like to stay with you tonight, if that's alright," he said huskily, his own face reddening.

"This won't taint how you see me?" she said, a trace of uncertainty in her eyes.

"I can't cling to an obsolete social code," he said. "As I understand it, this would be... 'friends with benefits'?"

She nodded, "And realizing this might not ever lead to anything more but fond memories."

He ducked his head a little. "Like... the dancing, maybe this would be better... if you take the lead."

"Then come this way, Captain Rogers," she trailed a finger up his brown tie, and sauntered ahead of him, taking him to another room. This chamber boasted a large bed, and few other furnishings. Sharon stopped him in the middle of the room, and unfastened his uniform jacket. He shrugged it off, and allowed her to drape it over a chair. Next, she took off his cufflinks, and placed them on the bedside stand.

Reaching up, she unbuttoned his dress shirt collar, so she could loosen and pull off his tie. She twirled the silk loop around her finger, with a speculative look. She took a few steps to a changing screen, and draped it over top. She slipped off her heels, then padded back to him in her hose. Sharon reached for his waist to loosen his belt and pulled his shirts out of his slacks. Slender fingers undid the buttons of his outer shirt, leaving it to hang open and loose, then drew the undershirt up in a bunch to just under his pecs.

He watched, his head tilted a bit to the side with a curious smile on his face. She looked up and stepped closer, spreading her hands over his chiseled abdominals, and slid them around him, scratching gently up his back and under his shirts with her fingernails as far as she could reach. A soft hum escaped him as his eyes slid shut, feeling her curves pressed tight against his front as she scritched his back. His arms wrapped around her as he kissed her again.

"Liked that, hmm?" she said. He nodded. She pulled back and took his over shirt off. "Ditch the tee shirt and the footwear," she said as she draped the dress shirt over the top of the changing screen. He took off the undershirt, and folded it before putting it on the chair, stowing his shoes and socks underneath. She looked back at him, barefoot and naked from the waist up, and smiled. "I feel a little... over dressed." She ducked behind the screen, and he heard intriguing rustles as he took the opportunity to adjust his uncomfortably tight slacks.

As he looked back at the screen, he saw her hand pull his dress shirt over to the other side. What did she want with that? When she stepped back out, he could see why. She was wearing his unbuttoned over shirt, the tie loosely circling her neck, and an army officer's peaked cap that matched his uniform. Under that, she wore a sheer burgundy bra and panty set, complete with a matching garter belt holding up her dusky hose. Silently she stood before him, stretching out one shapely leg to touch her toe to the floor and looked at him expectantly.

He knelt, and unclipped the offered hose before rolling it neatly down to her toe, lifting her foot to remove it. She switched her weight to her other foot, and he repeated the procedure with the new leg. "The belt?" he whispered, and she nodded. He touched her waist, giving her hips a gentle squeeze before sliding the garter belt down, while leaving the lacy panties in place. She put a finger on his lips when he straightened up, and moved it to just under her navel. He only hesitated a second before bring his hands up and under the oversized shirt, to pull her nearer as he bestowed a kiss on the place she'd indicated.

"Stand up," she said, pushing his head back gently. "It's my turn."

Steve stood, and she unfastened and unzipped his slacks, before drawing them down his legs. He braced on her shoulder as he pulled first one foot then the other free. The only thing he was wearing now was a pair of knit boxer briefs, an ingenious garment of this time. He was at full arousal, his heavy penis visibly straining at the stretchy fabric, only just covered by the extra cloth length of the leg [1]. Sharon put the slacks on the chair, and considered his condition. "That can't be comfortable," she observed.

"No, ma'am," he said, resisting the urge to adjust himself again as his penis twitched under her gaze.

"Then remove it..." she said with a smirk. He took a steeling breath, and as he hooked his thumbs under the waistband, she affected a nasal New Yorker accent, "...But slowly, slowly! It's too nice a job to rush [2]."

He gave a snort, the spark of amusement puncturing his nervousness. He exaggerated his own Brooklyn accent to reply in kind, "As the pretty dame likes." He gradually pushed down the waistband until he exposed the sharp cuts of his obliques, just above where the muscles of his thighs extended from his torso. His brown pubic hair came into view as he continued, pulling the waistband out a little farther to free his manhood from the garment. He pushed the underwear down his legs a little faster, then stepped out of it, and laid it on the chair.

"Well done, Soldier," she said with an appreciative look at the rigid flesh now revealed. "That's a mighty fine weapon, you have there."

He gave a bashful shrug, " _Everything_ got bigger."

"Dr. Erskine did some excellent work, I see." She extended a seeking finger again, and he intercepted it with his hand.

"If the lady continues, it might go off prematurely," he said gruffly.

"That's alright, Soldier, it's to be expected" she said, pushing the officer's hat back a bit with a smile. "Everyone's entitled to a practice shot." She picked up a hand towel at the back of the bedside table, and brought it over to him. "Atten- _tion_!" she barked and he reflexively obeyed, straightening up and thumping his heels together. "Parade... _Rest!_ " He spread his feet and clasped his hands at the small of his back. She nodded and flipped the end of the loose tie over her shoulder to get it out of the way.

A trickle of sweat ran through his hair as she knelt in front of him and took his member into her mouth. He groaned between clenched teeth, unable to see what she was doing because of the hat, but certainly able to feel the warm wetness of her mouth, and the sweeps of her tongue over his head. He struggled to resist the sensations, but he had never felt anything this exquisite before and yielded to her all too soon. He felt her swallow and then she was wiping him off with the soft towel. Steve's knees quivered from the tension, and she quickly said, "At ease."

He half staggered, catching his balance while keeping one foot planted in place. "Son of a _bitch_ ," he whispered.

"Language!" she said, grinning.

"Not at all sorry, Sharon," he said seriously.

"And now for the main event," she said, tugging his arms to trade positions and push him to sit on the bed. She drew close and directed his attention to her lingerie top. "See the little pearls?" He nodded. "Pull on them, gently," she directed. He did, and the lacy coverings over her nipples pulled off in his hands, leaving her areolas vividly framed. "There's one down there, too."

He leaned forward to see what she meant, and when he tugged on the pale bead on her panties, a lace panel joined the triangles he was still clutching. "They're, um... French?" he managed to get out.

"Yes, actually," she said. "They're sexy _and_ practical."

He swallowed again, "Uh, speaking of being practical, do you have any... rubbers?"

She hugged him and gave him a breath-taking smile. "Oh, A+, Rogers," she said. "It is just as much the man's responsibility as it is the woman's. As it turns out the methods I'm using don't require them, but I figured you could use the practice." She opened the bedside drawer and pulled out several strips of condoms.

He picked up a package, reading, "Trojan™, 'ribbed for her pleasure'." Shaking his head, he said, "They don't look much like the ones Bucky showed me."

She shrugged. "Made of different materials, self-lubricating, and a couple of frills. I didn't want to shock you _too_ much."

"Thanks for that," he said. She leaned down to kiss him, taking his hands, and putting them on her breasts.

"Do you still want me to take the lead?" she whispered.

He looked into her eyes, "You're doing fine so far," and he gave a nod of his head, "Ma'am."

"Very well, then," she said, "Assume the position," He looked uncertain suddenly, and she sighed, "Middle of the bed, on your back." When he squirmed into place, she slowly crawled over to him, straddling his thighs. "Now let's see about your vaunted recovery time." She scratched gently down his chest, tracing through the fine blond hairs under his navel, as he touched her soft curves with growing confidence. Before very long he was straining again, so she handed him a package. "Open it," she said, "and with the hollow tip _up_ , roll it down like you did the hose, only this time you're putting something on, not taking something off."[*]

He tore open the package, and looked down, tongue visible as he put on the condom. "Like that?" he said, looking up.

"Oh, you're adorkable," she said. "Yes, that's how you do it." She stroked down his sheathed penis, double checking the placing as he hissed and tensed. "Now," she said, "let's put it to good use." Sharon settled her full weight on him and his eyes rolled up in his head as she made contact, rubbing along him before taking his member inside her...

They continued in their vein of lighthearted instruction, giving and taking pleasure from each other while he learned what to do at an astonishing pace. All too soon, he was building, gripping her hips and thrusting into her desperately. She'd lost the hat somewhere, and the shirt was off her shoulders as she not-so-gently raked down his chest, her head leaned back with abandon. "Damn it!" he shouted as he climaxed. She rode it out, smiling down at him.

He sat up and wrapped her in his arms. "I'm sorry. You didn't...?"

She put a finger on his lips. "It's alright, we take longer than guys. And it's not like we're done, right?" She giggled. "Still have plenty of rubbers." She helped him dispose of the one he was wearing, and mopped up the worst of the bodily fluids.

He smiled and kissed her, then took the tie off her, draping it around his own neck. "I think I'll lead this time," he said, pulling her down to lie beside him, then rolling on top to settle between her legs, reaching out to snag another condom. "Just... don't step on me, okay?"

She drew her knee up to her shoulder in an impressive demonstration of limberness and, pointing her big toe, booped his nose with it. "No guarantees."

.....

Days later, Steve stood in the elevator as it rose to the commons level, when it stopped to let on Natasha. She mimicked his stoic demeanor, facing the front beside him. He pressed the stop button, and faced her. "You knew I'd fail your dare," he said.

"I had a good idea," she said. "But I was just trying to help. Are we good?"

He sighed and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, "We're good. Thanks." He released the elevator, and it arrived on the commons floor. The doors opened to show the other Avengers gathered, watching them for a silent moment. Then Natasha strutted out with her fists in the air in a victory pose and their friends gave out whoops of celebration.

As Steve came out after her, Stark pulled an expensive looking magnum of Champagne from behind a couch, and popped the cork, shaking it so it sprayed over everyone nearby. He gestured broadly at the spewing bottle with dramatically raised eyebrows, "Remind you of anything?"

"Shut up, Tony," Steve said.

"Oh, you're no fun. I thought you’d have loosened up a little after you got lucky... What? Just sayin’..."

_-fin_

A/Ns: LOOSELY based on the MCU, through "Avengers: Age of Ultron".

[1] I found some pics on Tumblr of Chris Hemsworth (Thor's actor) in the state I'm describing here, and let's just paraphrase Captain Hammer from _Doctor Horrible_ , "The Hammer is his Penis!" _(Hnnnnng!!)_

[2] _A la_ Columbia, in the _Rocky Horror Picture Show_.

[*] I'm not quite sure where the condom lesson came from, but hey, it seemed to fit. (/wink)

[1000 Island smut challenge: mandatory words (5 of 10) - love rocket, love box, ejaculatory scream, pecker, taint.]


End file.
